


Like Oxygen

by stellarmeadow



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-20
Updated: 2011-05-20
Packaged: 2017-10-19 15:03:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/202146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellarmeadow/pseuds/stellarmeadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the moment Danny falls down, Steve's laser focus is on making sure he keeps breathing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Oxygen

**Author's Note:**

> The inside of Steve's head during part of 1.23.

From the moment he sees Danny go down, Steve's focus is on Danny's breathing. He knows he runs off to find whatever caused it, but the whole time his ears were trained on the harsh wheezing from outside. When Kono calls him back out, her voice covering the sound of Danny breathing for a brief second, Steve thinks he might stop breathing himself.

But Danny is still breathing--barely, his body shaking, his eyes closed, but still breathing--and all Steve can do is beg him to stay. "Stay with me, Danny, stay with me." The words had been echoing in his head since the first week of their partnership, but he'd never said them aloud. He has no idea if Danny even hears, but he keeps begging anyway, over and over, his hands on Danny's arms, until the paramedics show up.

The EMTs know them, know better than to try to tell Commander McGarrett he can't ride in the ambulance. He stays mostly out of the way, one hand on Danny's knee, feeling as much as hearing each breath. Danny breathes 157 times from when they close the ambulance doors until they open them at the hospital, and Steve jumps out of the way, waiting for them to get the stretcher out so he can follow close behind.

He answers the doctor's questions, what few answers he can give, part of his attention still trained on Danny's breathing, barely audible beneath the voices surrounding it. Then they're out of questions, and hallway, and he stands there, staring, as the sound of Danny's breathing fades down the hall until there is nothing left but silence.

He has no idea how long he's standing there when a nurse, tugging on his sleeve, gets his attention. "Sir, we need to clear the hallway, please. There are some chairs over there where you can wait."

She points, and Steve can just see the first chair around the corner. "Right. Sorry," he says, running his hands through his hair.

"It's okay," she replies, kindly, "you're not the first person to not know which end is up when something like this happens."

But it's Danny, he wants to say, this matters more than anyone else who's family and friends have stood here. Which is ridiculous--everyone matters. But it doesn't stop the irrational annoyance at her statement, even though it was only meant to help.

He shakes his head and goes over to the chair and sits down where he can see the doors in case the doctor comes back through. He pulls out his phone and texts Chin, telling him they'd made it to the hospital and that they were waiting for word and trusts Chin to get the message that if Steve is texting him about it, he doesn't want to talk. The next time the phone rings it had better be with news on how to fix Danny before he runs out of breaths.

A clock on the wall above him ticks loudly, four ticks in a row reminding him of the cadence of Danny's breathing in the ambulance. He listens, eyes almost closed, picturing Danny breathing in those same seconds, and wills him to keep breathing. To stay. He can't leave, not now. He has to stay.

Exactly 312 breaths later, the doors open, and the right doctor comes out. Steve is on his feet and across the hall to meet him halfway to the door. "How's Danny?"

"He's stable, for the moment," the doctor says, "but I don't know for how long. We've done all we can do--without knowing what the poison was, anything else we try could help or could kill him. Is your team making any progress?"

"They're working as fast as they can," Steve says, looking past the doctor at the closed doors. "Can I see him?"

"He's not up for visitors."

"I'm not gonna ask him to dance, doc, I just want to see him. Please."

The doctor's lips thin, and he takes a deep breath. "Five minutes," he says, "and you look, don't touch. We can't do anything to upset the delicate state he's in."

"Thank you." He follows the doctor back to a room where Danny is hooked to all sorts of machines and enters, the doctor staying on the other side of the door. Danny's breathing is the same as in the ambulance, with a little less wheeze, but steady, and Steve listens to it for the first minute or so. "Listen, Danny," he says eventually, "you have to stay. Grace needs you. We need you."

Steve reaches out to touch Danny's hand, then remembers what the doctor said and pulls back, fingers balling into a fist. " _I_ need you," Steve says. "I mean, who's gonna keep me from shooting people? Chin will just raise an eyebrow over the dead body, man. You have to stick around."

Sixty breaths, and he only has 15 left before they make him leave. "They're finding out what got you, and I'm right outside, and as soon as we know, we'll fix you. Just stay. Don't go anywhere. Stay."

The doctor pokes his head inside. "Commander...."

"I know, thanks." Steve turns and walks out, goes back to his chair, but he can't sit, so he paces back and forth along the corridor, his steps in time with the clock, counting out Danny's breaths.

He's counted 433 before his phone rings at last. It's Kaye, with an ID and a cure, and a fucking job for life if she wants it, just for this, he thinks, as he hangs up without a word and runs for the doctor.

He counts another 562 breaths before the doctor comes back, telling him that Danny is responding to the medicine. "Can I see him?"

"Not yet. We'll be moving him to a recovery room as soon as we're comfortable that he's stable. You can see him then."

Steve considers arguing for two breaths before he sees Chin and Kono coming down the hall. "Thanks, doc."

He knows he fills them in, tells them what to do next, since he has no intention of going anywhere, but someone has to continue. Well, no intention of going anywhere, with one exception, he realizes when Chin reminds him Grace will be waiting for Danny to pick her up. His thank you to Jenna is longer than he'd have liked--he never minds Danny's rambling nearly as much as hers--but she needs to understand how important it is that she helped keep Danny here. Breathing.

He can leave at last, but he sneaks back into the room where Danny's being treated, getting one look under the guise of explaining to the doctor where he's going, and giving the doctor his card in case anything at all changes.

That done, he palms the keys an HPD patrolman had brought him at some point and goes to find the Camaro out front waiting for him. It's only when he goes to buckle the seatbelt that he realizes he still has his tac vest on. He stares at it for a long moment, hearing the silence in the car, no rhythm to keep track of Danny's breaths, no Danny, ranting about everything. The car still smells like Danny. But the only sound is cold silence.

Grace. He has to get Grace. And he can't show up at the school with his vest on. He pulls it off and tosses it in the back seat, then buckles his seat belt and pulls away from the curb. When he gets out of the car at the school, his phone ringing is somewhat like a punch in the gut, that stab of fear that something's gone wrong turning into a white-hot hate as he hears Sang Min's voice.

He has the nerve to ask for a deal--he led Danny into a house that nearly got him killed. He can rot under Wo Fat's torture for all Steve cares, as he hangs up and turns around to find Grace looking around the parking lot.

She's warm and soft, and hugs as well as her father does. Has his strength too, taking the news in stride, walking confidently along beside Steve, secure in the knowledge that if Steve said Danny will be okay, he will. Because Steve would never let Danny be anything other than okay.

Steve answers her questions on the way to the hospital, and when they get there, she pulls paper and crayons out of her backpack while they wait. He's tempted to offer to help, just to have a distraction, but he can't seem to make himself sit down long enough. He's got the clock back, and he goes back to counting the breaths, 421, until he takes a call. He gets off quickly when he sees the doctor waiting for him, though, with the news that Danny's ready to have visitors.

Grace jumps up to join him, and the doctor leads them to Danny's room before continuing on. Steve takes Grace's hand and walks slowly beside her, whispering that it looks like Danny's sleeping, even as he's noticing the difference in Danny's breathing. Longer, more restful, less like a dying man and more like the way he sounds when Steve wakes up in the middle of the night and lies there, letting Danny's deep breaths lull him back to sleep, his hand on Danny's warm back, feeling the steady rise and fall as he breathes.

He knows the count of those breaths as well, but then Danny opens his mouth, and starts talking, and Steve doesn't need to count breaths anymore.

Danny's breathing is a wonderful thing. But Danny's words are like oxygen.

___  
END

**Author's Note:**

> Want to learn more about me and my writing? Visit my page at <http://www.jamiemeadowswrites.com/>


End file.
